


Crumbling Mask

by alvahana



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Aftermath of Interrogation, Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Morgana's POV, Panic Attacks, Persona 5 Protagonist Needs a Hug, Post-November 20 Interrogation (Persona 5), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Team Bonding, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:54:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28706985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alvahana/pseuds/alvahana
Summary: You knew Akira wasn’t okay after the interrogation. He claimed he was. Like he always did whenever anyone asked. He brushed off their concerns or changed the subject of the conversation, and pretended like everything was all fine and dandy.But you saw right through the act.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 74





	Crumbling Mask

You knew Akira wasn’t okay after the interrogation. 

He claimed he was. Like he always did whenever anyone asked. He brushed off their concerns or changed the subject of the conversation, and pretended like everything was all fine and dandy. 

But you, living with him and following him everywhere he went, saw right through the act. You caught all the telltale signs he was trying so hard to hide – the wincing, the shakes, the flinching, the nightmares – and every single one of them was screaming the opposite of fine. 

They were so damn obvious that you couldn’t have possibly missed them even if you wanted to. 

You didn’t miss how he favored his right leg when he walked, and how his face contorted and his muscle tensed up whenever he moved the wrong way, aggravating the ache from his bruised ribs and wounds across his torso. 

You didn’t miss when he got restless lying on bed doing nothing during the first two days and decided to craft some infiltration tools, how his hands began to shake, and how quickly he shoved them inside his hoodie’s pockets to hide as you leapt onto the desk. 

You didn’t miss when Futaba came to visit and accidently dropped a mug and it clashed with the attic’s wooden floor with a loud thump, how violently he jumped and flinched at the sound, like a feral cat startled by the thunder. 

You didn’t miss when he finally managed to fall asleep after tossing and turning in bed for at least an hour _every night_ , how he started trashing and moaning “no, no…l–let me go…” in his sleep, begging the invisible demons to go away, and when you pressed your paws into his cheek trying to wake him, how he suddenly sat bolt upright and panted heavily, cloth soaking wet with sweat. 

“I’m fine, Mona...” he had said to your worried frown after settling down. “…The bad dreams will go away soon, then I’ll be back to myself.” 

You knew it wouldn’t be that simple, not when the dark grey eyes that wouldn’t look at you were clouded with such anguish, but you agreed with him anyway, “Yeah….yeah you will be.” Because you wanted it to be true. 

You needed it to be true. 

——

At Boss’ urging, Akira had been borrowing the Sakura’s bathroom for shower since he came back. The old barista had said it wasn’t safe for him to use the public bathhouse considering his supposedly ‘dead’ status, not to mention exposing all those scars and bruises on his battered body would no doubt catch unwanted attention or stir up bad rumors in the neighborhood. 

Akira didn’t protest – he seemed content with the temporary arrangement, actually – so when the café’s closing hour came you walked alongside them to the Sakura’s house. The black-haired teen had told you to hop into his duffel bag and let him carry you. You refused, saying you’d prefer taking a stroll after dinner, even though both of you knew full well that it was because you didn’t want to add weight to his shoulder and risk jostling his injuries. 

Boss had walked the two of you back to the café afterwards, but after a few days Akira insisted he’d be fine on his own, saying he wasn’t a little kid and it was just a short distance anyway. You watched Boss frowned before he reluctantly agreed. 

You were walking gracefully on a fence beside Akira when his feet came to a sudden stop, his whole demeanor hardened. You followed his gaze to two cops patrolling ahead in the distance. They were facing the other way and didn’t see you. 

“Hey–”, you started. 

“Let’s just go,” Akira murmured, voice low and unsteady. Then he lowered his head, hunched his back and resumed walking. From your elevated position and with his hoodie up, you couldn’t see his expression clearly, but his trembling shoulders and shuddering breath were hard to miss. 

The cops didn’t notice either of you – they didn’t even look at your direction – and you and Akira arrived home without a hitch. Once inside, Akira escaped to the washroom without saying a word, but before he closed the door, you caught that tormented, haunted look on his blenched face. The same look you saw when he jolted awake from his nightmare every night since he came back. 

You climbed the stairs leading to the attic and waited him there. When he came out some time later, eyes red-rimmed, you knew better than to ask if he was okay. You simply sat down next to him on the bed, and didn’t complain when he began to stroke your back. You didn’t like people petting you; you were a human, not a cat. But if being a cat was what brought Akira comfort at the moment, you didn’t mind pretending to be one. 

That same night, when you felt him pressed against you closer than usual, you didn’t protest either. The invisible demons still came for him though – if anything, the whimpers and trashing were even worse than the other nights. 

—— 

“I’m worried about him, Mona,” Ryuji said to you one afternoon. 

The Thieves had come over to LeBlanc’s attic for a strategic meeting before their second infiltration into Shido’s Palace. Boss had closed up shop early to give you space and privacy. Without him serving coffee and Akira banned from doing any duties, Ryuji was tasked with fetching drinks from the fridge while everyone else set up the table. You had followed him downstairs, claiming someone had to keep the blonde from making a mess of the kitchen. 

“…Aren’t we all,” you replied Ryuji with a sigh. 

By then it was clear to everyone something was not right with their leader. He was distant, quieter than usual, and they’d caught those warning signs, sans the nightmares (you didn’t mention them because they didn’t feel like yours to tell). The whole team thought it was too soon for Akira to get back in action, but the stubborn teenager argued there was no time to waste and insisted he was ready. The discussion went on for a while, but eventually they relented and agreed to start infiltration on the fifth day. 

The first run went okay, even though Akira was apparently not at his best strength and stamina. There was a heaviness in his gait and movement, his usual fineness and elegance gone. You could only hope he would get better as his wounds continued to heal. But all things considered, you thought he seemed more like his previous self in his Joker outfit. Or maybe it was because the mask and gloves were doing an excellent job of hiding his pale skin, pained expression and shaking hands? You couldn’t tell for sure. 

As if reading your mind, Ryuji said in a hushed voice, “He keeps sayin’ he’s fine, thinks we won’t notice a thing, but it’s so damn obvious he’s hurtin’…!” The blonde was more perceptive than he seemed, you’d give him that. 

“He knows we won’t judge him, right...?” Ryuji continued, sounding frustrated. His hand was absented-mindedly rummaging through the fridge. “Whatever he’s goin’ through, we’re here for him.” 

“I’m sure he knows that, Ryuji,” you said. 

“Then why can’t he just talk to us? Why keep pretending nothin’s wrong?” 

Silence dragged on, before you found yourself saying, “…Maybe the lies aren’t meant for us, but for himself. Maybe he believes if he keeps repeating he’s fine…he’ll be eventually.” 

He looked at you, eyes wide, and after a moment, turned back toward the fridge, his jaw clenched tight. 

Neither of you said another word as he grabbed the drinks and trudged up the stairs. 

—— 

To be honest, you were surprised Akira’s breakdown didn’t come sooner than it did. 

You didn’t expect the group could get this far without a major accident, but Akira had put on his ‘everything is fine’ façade, and managed to push his way through the entire Palace. He didn’t break when taking the lead fighting Shadows more vicious than ever. He didn’t break when Akechi showed up, went berserk and then showed remorse just to die a few minutes later. He didn’t break when confronting the culprit behind every wrongdoing, the man who caused him and those he cared about all those terrible sufferings for the past year or so. Somehow, Akira had led the team to defeat Shido and steal his treasure. 

At the end of the day, even the heroic stunt Ryuji pulled, however foolhardy it was, worked out. Well, except for the part where he disappeared with an explosion right before the Palace collapsed, and didn’t turn up until after the Thieves thought he was dead and the girls started sobbing. Yeah, at least you were all alive and had the energy to scold Ryuji for being a reckless moron who scared the shit out of everyone. 

You were about to join them on the punishment by jumping up and lashing out your claws on the blonde, and that was then you noticed Akira hadn’t said a word since back from the Metaverse. You looked up and found him staring ahead at the gang, but his eyes were glassy and out of focus. And as if he was struggling to control his breathing, his chest was heaving heavily. 

“Akira?” you said, yet no response came. The ragged breath got louder and his face started losing color. 

Alarmed, you called out to the others, “Guys! Something’s not right!” They turned around, and upon realizing what was happening, rushed to the leader. Ryuji caught him just in time as his knees buckled. 

“…Akira? Akira!?” 

“Nononono…” 

“What’s wrong with him!?” 

Everyone was panicking. Futaba started crying again. 

With Ryuji supporting the leader’s weight and keeping him upright, Makoto soothed him by guiding him to take long breaths. “It’s okay Akira, breathe with me slowly…” God bless the second-in-command for always being the unruffled one, because you – like Futaba, Ann, Haru and Yusuke – could only hover around helplessly and watch him gasp for air. 

Slowly, you saw Akira’s breathing started to even out a little. “I-I’m okay…” he croaked between gasps after another while, trying to straighten up and pull himself back together. 

It was then you noticed your group had drawn attention as a couple of passers were giving you looks. “There’s a small park over there, let’s get you there first,” you suggested. Everyone agreed. Haru motioned at a vending machine not far away and said, “I’ll go grab some water, be right back.” Ann picked you up and you watched as Ryuji and Yusuke supported the wobbling leader, and together you moved to the park. 

By the time Akira settled down on a bench, with Ryuji sitting on one side and Ann on the other with you on her lap, Haru was back with two bottles of water. She uncapped one and handed it to the leader, “Here Akira, drink some?” who gave a small nod. “This one's for you, Ryuji. You must be exhausted from the run earlier.” The blonde took the other one from Haru with a ‘thanks’ and drank greedily.

You saw Akira took a few sips, then several full, deep breaths. His breathing was almost back to normal, even though his face was still pale. 

Futaba fidgeted her sleeve and asked in a small voice, “Are you feeling better now…?” 

“Y-yeah...sorry I worried you guys...” he mumbled, trying a reassuring smile that didn't reach his eyes. “…I’m just too drained after the fight with Shido.” He gave a wry chuckle. 

It pained you admit, but what you saw beneath his eyes was not mere physical exhaustion. It was growing affliction he’d been holding in for not just the past two weeks but possibly a lot longer. You wanted to call out his lie, but Ryuji beat you to it. 

"Quit the bullshit man…” Ryuji sounded upset, his face furrowed with incredulous concern. “You ain’t fine and we can all see it!” 

Akira’s eyes went wide, and the blonde continued, “Don’t try to push it down anymore. Just…just tell us what's goin' on in your mind, a'right?” 

“He’s right, Akira…” said Ann. “We know you’re hurting, and it hurts us to see you like that…so please, tell us what’s wrong…” Her tone was almost pleading. 

Yusuke, silent until now, took a step forward and said, quietly, “We are all here for you, Akira, no matter what.” The others didn’t say a word, but the worried and caring looks they had told you they shared the same thoughts. So did you. You could only hope Akira could understand that by now.

Moving from Ann’s lap to sit on Akira’s, you hoped your weight would give him the courage he needed to speak his mind. For a moment, you saw him attempting to put back up the calm and composed façade he had let slip far too many times. But then something gave. 

“I–” he started, his head brought down. “…I thought you…didn’t m-make it out…” his voice cracked slightly. “…I thought you _died_ , Ryuji.” 

Ryuji blinked. “But I’m fine–” 

“One minute you were there and the next you weren’t, and when we couldn’t find you…I–I thought I failed. I was supposed to protect you, keep you safe,” he rambled on without looking up. “Everyone single one of you. I’m your leader and it’s my responsibility to protect you…Who am I if I fail to do that…?” 

“Akira…” Futaba said, lips quivering and tears slipping down her cheeks. 

His bangs was obscuring his expression from the others. But from your position, you could see the pain in his eyes, you could feel his body started shaking. Your chest felt tight at the sight, and you pressed yourself closer to him. 

“I can’t stand the thought of anything happening to any of you,” Akira continued in a shaky voice. “It’s one thing I got hurt. I can hold on and keep myself together, as long as I have you guys. I’ll be fine…I have to be fine…” he swallowed. “Or I thought I was…b–but then everything just came crashing down. I’m in that room again and my hands are cuffed and they put needles in me and beat me and I-I…” His breath hitched, “I-I’m so s-scared…” 

That was all it took for the dam holding back the tears to break. You watched as his hands covered his face, trying to catch his agonizing, uncontrollable sobs. It wasn’t anything loud, yet you felt his whole torso quake with every stuttering breath he took, his carefully constructed mask crumbling down.

You leaned further to him, before a crying Futaba threw herself into Akira, squeezing you in between. Ann wrapped her hands around their backs from the side, her head resting on Akira’s shoulder, while Ryuji embraced all four of you from the other. You stole a glance through a gap at the other three; Haru and Makoto was huddling close to each other, both of them quietly crying. Yusuke’s eyes were shinning with tears as well.

You stayed like that for a long while, letting Akira got everything he’d been bottling up out. Eventually, you felt his sobs died down into soft hiccups and he started to pull away. That was when Ryuji straightened up and spoke. 

“You’re my best friend, Akira.” 

“…H–Huh?” Caught off guard by the blonde’s words, Akira finally raised his head, eyes still red and puffy. 

“You said you’re our leader, and wonder who you’ll be if you fail to protect us,” Ryuji said. “My answer is: You’re my best friend. Nothing you do or don’t do will ever change that!” 

“Ryuji…” 

Catching the flow, Futaba suddenly stood up and proclaimed proudly, “And you’re my key item! My dearest big brother!” 

“Yeah, you aren’t just our leader, Akira, you’re _so much_ more,” Ann said in between sniffs. “You’re our friend, our family.” 

“And you don’t need to hide things from family,” Makoto spoke softly. “Just like you can’t stand watching us get hurt, we can’t stand seeing you in pain.” 

Yusuke nodded, “We will not think anything less of you no matter the state you’re in, especially not when you got hurt trying to protect us.” 

“So don’t try to deal with problems on your own. Let us share your pain from now on, okay?” Haru said with a gentle smile. 

You watched as Akira blinked and met their eyes one by one, shock and sadness gradually morphed into gratitude with a hint of genuine smile. It was something you hadn’t seen on him for a long time. Eyes hazy with new, unshed tears, he finally nodded and croaked, trying desperately to keep his voice steady, “…Y-yeah, o-okay.”

You knew he was too emotional to express anything further, so you nudged his chin with your head, and said, “Let’s get you home, yeah?” 

He met your gaze and hugged you tight. You felt him nodded again as his tears slid down along the fur on your back.

Akira might not be okay yet, at least not for a while longer. His road to recovery would probably be lengthy and bumpy. But between you and the rest of the team, you would make sure he didn’t have to walk this path alone.

**Author's Note:**

> I’d always wanted to write a post-interrogation fic -- how can I pass up a chance to write hurt!Akira...? But there're already tons of wonderful ones out there and I couldn't think of a good angle to write it, which is why it took this long. Anyway, this is my first attempt at heavy angst, I hope Akira’s not too OOC and hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Okay, I should probably get back to the multi-chapter status ailment fic I should've been working on...


End file.
